


Venomous

by Autumn_Llleaves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Heavy Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumn_Llleaves/pseuds/Autumn_Llleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The basilisk is a bit late and finds Myrtle not in a cubicle, but in front of a mirror, which results in the girl being only Petrified and later successfully reawakened with the help of Mandrakes. Everyone, including especially herself, is under the impression Tom Riddle rescued her in time, and it's Riddle who makes the biggest effort to ready the Mandrakes. It's just natural that after returning to life, Myrtle becomes infatuated with her savior…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Award for Riddle

"I look _dreadful_ ", Myrtle whimpered to herself as she looked into the mirror. Red puffy face, swollen nose, bloodshot eyes – she had been crying for what seemed like ages. And she hadn't even put on the glasses – the awful glasses, the reason of her suffering! Why couldn't she mend her nearsightedness with magic? What was the _point_ of magic if not this, making people's lives easier?

"Myrtle!" a voice came from outside. After a moment's fear, the girl relaxed – it wasn't Olive but Prefect Sinistra.

"My-yrtle! Myrtle Warren! Where are you? We're all leaving for Hogsmeade in half an hour, you'd better be getting ready!"

"Coming in a moment, Aurora!"

The elder girl came inside and saw the state Myrtle was in. There was no need to ask why she had been crying – everyone in Ravenclaw knew this, and practically everyone else in Hogwarts as well. Aurora patted her shoulder sympathetically:

"Don't worry, child. Olive Hornby is a cowardly dolt. She torments  _everyone_ in her year and lower, but I always see her trembling when any prefects are nearby! Besides, you know what? I've caught her hitting a first-year, and Professor Flitwick gave her a detention for the whole day today! Which means – no Olive in Hogsmeade!"

Myrtle smiled faintly.

"There you are, Myrtle. Don't fret. Flitwick actually said that the next time it happens Olive will get a whole month of detentions in the Astronomy Tower! Can you imagine it?"

It was, indeed, quite unbelievable. But a bully like Hornby could enrage even their soft-hearted professor. Filius Flitwick wasn't one to make empty threats – he rarely made _any_ , better to say – but when he said such things, he meant it. Hopefully it would show Olive her place, at least until the end of the year.

"Yeah, a month of detentions up there is something to make Olive shut up," Myrtle laughed.

"Well,  _I_ wouldn't mind to visit the Astronomy Tower every day, but tastes differ," Aurora smiled back. "Now, wash your face and hurry up to the common room!"

The prefect left, and Myrtle could hear her calling out for other Ravenclaws to gather in the common room. Her spirits rising a little higher, the girl combed her hair and was just about to open the water, when she heard noise again.

"Aurora, you said _half an hour_!" she cried, annoyed.

There was no response. The noise, a crashing sort of one, continued. Probably some pranksters tried to vandalize the door – Myrtle remembered her first year all too well, when Septimus Weasley bewitched the door to Ravenclaw common room so that it grew hands and scratched everybody trying to get in. That cost Gryffindor sixty points, and actually the Weasley boy was aiming at the Slytherins' door. It was his way to ask Cedrella Black out. Thankfully, both of them were now out of school – that had been their last year...

The thing – whatever it was – was now _hissing_ as well. Most probably, another boy's idea of having fun – setting a snakelike creature loose. Myrtle didn't even think of hoping someone was asking _her_ out. Not with these glasses. No, it was just something a Gryffindor would think of as a very joyous game.

Gryffindor?.. She hesitated. No, no. Gryffindors wouldn't summon a _snake_. Therefore – it was a Slytherin's job.

"Black, it's _not_ funny!" Myrtle yelled. She had no idea which Black it could be, but that family seemed to make the majority of Slytherins.

The noise didn't stop. Myrtle tried other guesses:

"Dolohov! Mulciber! I will tell Professor Slughorn, you can be sure I _will_!"

Turning her attention back to the mirror, she suddenly froze. A large head was appearing out of the wall – a large dark snake's head – cold yellow eyes – they paralyzed you... Losing control over her body, Myrtle fell still on the floor, unable to move a single muscle and feeling like she was turned into a chunk of ice.

The snake suddenly hissed and disappeared back into the wall.

Myrtle heard footsteps. She wished she could turn to see who it was... or at least move her eyes... No chance. Was it Aurora, checking on her? No, she didn't hear the heels. The steps were of a boy.

"Merlin! What happened?' the girl heard a shocked cry. She recognized the voice of sixth-year Slytherin prefect, Tom Riddle. Soon his handsome dark-haired face came into her vision.

"Not again!" he whispered. He flashed his wand in front of her eyelids, obviously checking her pupils.

"Petrified," he murmured and examined her:

"Hm, let me see... a Ravenclaw. I hope your guys haven't left yet."

He lifted her up and shouted, rushing out of the lavatory:

"Help! Someone! Another attack! A Ravenclaw girl Petrified!"

People started coming to them. Aurora's blanched face hovered above Myrtle – the prefect girl was whispering something about having the chance to save her and failing... Myrtle could hear the Headmaster addressing the staff, Professor Flitwick reproaching Olive... Head Girl Minerva McGonagall was weeping uncontrollably about a maniac on the run and the school being closed.

"It can't be!" Tom Riddle said, his eyes narrowing at theemere possibility of the latter. It was well-known he was passionately devoted to Hogwarts. "The culprit must be caught. This attack is the last straw, Minerva."

Myrtle felt elation, seeing his perfect features, a determined look in his dark green eyes. Tom Riddle would surely catch the one who sent the horrible snake! The young man was a model student, the pride and joy of the whole school. He excelled in Defense against the Dark Arts, winning several awards, and Myrtle was sure he'd track down that horrible person who opened the Chamber of Secrets – since the girl realized she, too, fell victim to the mysterious Chamber of Secrets monster that had been looming around the school for some months.

* * *

 

**Two months later**

"We are happy to welcome Myrtle Warren back among us!" Professor Flitwick grinned as she entered the classroom. "Miss Warren, my dear, Miss Sinistra has already agreed to give you extra lessons to make up for the lost time, but I am ready to help you in any case too. Settle down, now, we're coincidentally doing Cheering Charms today."

"Thanks, Professor," Myrtle smiled and hesitantly took the empty seat by Olive's side.

"Sorry," the other girl said awkwardly, averting her eyes. "I didn't mean – I didn't mean it about your glasses."

Olive indeed looked much quieter than before, even depressed. Myrtle could guess what she had been through, as many blamed her for Myrtle's peril. With the help of the Cheering Charms, it took less than a lesson for both girls to reconcile.

Flitwick kept them a little late, so they had only enough time during the break to rush to the next class. They were having Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors.

Smiling back at the Gryffindors who too waved at her, Myrtle noticed something was amiss:

"Where's Rubeus Hagrid?" she whispered to Olive. The enormous clumsy Gryffindor could skip classes occasionally, but he  _never ever ever_ skipped Magical Creatures.

"Didn't they tell you at the hospital wing?"

"N-no – I was revived by people from St. Mungo's."

"It was _Hagrid_. It was his creature that petrified you all," Olive shuddered. "I've _always_ felt it! Dragging werewolves and griffons and stuff into the school – how _typical_ of a Gryffindor!"

"Miss Hornby, Miss Warren," Professor Kettleburn called. "As much as I'm glad to see Miss Warren again, you will soon talk during lunchtime, and now better pay attention."

Later Olive explained further:

"The fool had no idea his things are dangerous. Riddle – he caught him and made him confess – was all for sending him to Azkaban. Dippet was for banishing him into the Muggle world – as if someone like Hagrid could ever pass as a Muggle! But Dumbledore insisted and insisted, and Hagrid's still with us. Expelled, but living on the grounds as a gamekeeper, Merlin's beard," Olive scoffed. " _I_ would have given him a life sentence."

Myrtle's heart did a small leap:

"You say Riddle caught him?"

"Of course," Olive smiled dreamily. "Quite cleverly, tracked him down. He cared for most of the Mandrakes for your revival too. Pity you haven't seen the ceremony – he received an Award for Special Services!"

"Rightly so," Myrtle sighed.

She remembered Tom Riddle's deep green eyes, thin mouth, and black hair, curling a little just above his forehead... The adored hero of the whole school rescued her before the Petrifying beast could eat her, and he helped to revive her...

"C'mon, Myrtle, we'll be late for Slughorn!" Olive pushed her elbow.

They weren't late, as it turned out. They were all seated, but Professor Slughorn didn't come. Eventually the door opened to welcome – not the professor, but (Myrtle caught her breath) Tom Riddle.

"Professor Slughorn sends his apologies," he said in that soft, beautiful voice of his. Why didn't Myrtle notice earlier how musical it sounded? "He has been called to the Ministry and won't return until the day after tomorrow."

Before the students could cheer about the double break, Riddle added:

"You have this period free, but Professor Dumbledore has graciously agreed to give you an additional Transfiguration during the next one."

It wasn't as good as a double free period, but still enough time to play chess or Exploding Snap and forget about asphodel and caterpillars.

As Tom Riddle made to leave, Myrtle, blushing madly, hurried after him:

"Er... Mr. Riddle?" she didn't know how to call him, but it seemed awfully inappropriate to call such a grown handsome man _Tom_.

He was pleased at the address, though:

"Yes, Miss Warren?"

"I... I... thank you for saving my life!" she exclaimed, looking purposefully down at her glimmering wand.

"That was nothing, Miss Warren," he smiled broadly. "Anytime."

Myrtle's heart jumped again. She wanted to tell him how clever he had been, how heroic, how glad she was he had received the Award... but her tongue seemed somehow Petrified on its own.

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren, I must fly. Late for Arithmancy," he gave her a final smile and ran down the corridor.


	2. Making Herself Noticeable

April gave way to May, and summer holidays were approaching fast. But for Myrtle, this fact held no joy. For once, she wasn’t a bit glad about going home.

She had fallen in love with Tom Riddle. She realized it practically the same day when she was revived – _she_ , an insignificant third year, falling in love with the most wonderful wizard that had attended Hogwarts in the recent centuries! Before the incident with Petrification, Myrtle wouldn’t have thought of ir. She used to admire Tom at a distance, like everyone else did, like people admire the sun or the rainbow – something that you can never get in your life.

However, now she couldn’t help it. Tom, who rescued her, who stopped the attacks, who was so dashingly handsome and with such a voice – how could she stay away from him? She couldn’t! Simply couldn’t!

The problem was, his feelings towards her stayed the same as previously. If indeed they could be called _feelings_. Tom viewed her as nothing but part of a mass of Ravenclaw House third years. She doubted if he would remember her name in a few months.

“He’s not going to notice any of us ever,” Olive said gingerly one day. She, too, was pining for the school hero, but as neither of them had any serious hope, she could share her grief with Myrtle.

“Perhaps we could give him Amortentia,” Myrtle suggested.

“No chance. I’ve got a friend in his year, and she says Slughorn taught them all about Love Potions and how to recognize them. Besides,” Olive scowled. “I wouldn’t want to attract young men using such _unfair_ methods.”

“Says Olive Hornby,” Myrtle murmured under her breath. Olive did get better since she had been revived, but still didn’t refrain from a superior air or Cheating Spells every now and then.

As exams were approaching, though, most girls stopped thinking of Riddle and started thinking of classes. Even Olive could be seen with textbooks, searching frantically for that incantation or this name or this chart.

But not Myrtle. The only thing Myrtle could concentrate upon that the next year was Tom Riddle’s final, and she was no way nearer to him than before. She tried studying, but all she could see when she opened the books was Tom’s pale face, with the curls on his forehead and his deep eyes…

 _Come on,_ she scolded herself. _You’re a Ravenclaw. You are clever. You need to figure out how to get to him._

Love Potions, it seemed, were out of the question. Perhaps she could impress him with her intelligence? Nonsense, he was in his sixth year and _brilliant_ , even her finest work was a child’s play to him. _She_ was a child to him. Her looks? Absolutely disgusting… but there were some charms and potions to correct it – and many of them available in Hogsmeade shops!

After the last Charms lesson of the year, Myrtle stayed to ask Professor Flitwick:

“Sorry, Professor – I remember you mentioning Facial Charms sometime in autumn, and I wondered where I could look up about them…”

“A boy caught your eye, eh, Miss Warren?” he winked.

“N-no, sir – not at all – I only want to prepare for the exam…”

“No need of it, Miss Warren – if you recalled me mentioning them, you can also remember that I said we aren’t doing them until three years later. Exactly to correspond with the time you start doing self-Transfiguration.”

“Oh,” Myrtle sighed. Another hope crushed.

“But there are in fact several simple Facial Charms _you_ can perform… you can look them up in Goshawk’s _Elementary Appearance Charms._ A student of your level will surely manage them.”

“Thank you, sir! Oh thank you!” the girl could have hugged him at that moment.

“Good luck, Miss Warren. But remember – looks aren’t everything, so don’t exaggerate it,” he winked again and gestured for the next class to enter.

 _Looks aren’t everything,_ Myrtle repeated mockingly in her mind as she hurried to the library. _Easy for you to say, you must be used to being half-goblin. Anyway, men don’t mind their own appearance as much as they mind women’s._

The book recommended by Flitwick indeed turned out to be a very easy one. To Myrtle’s chagrin, there weren’t any charms that made serious change – nothing about, for example, making your hair golden and wavy. But there was advice on making your eyelashes longer and darker, on preserving a rosy complexion, and on making your nails sparkle a little.

 _Not bad,_ Myrtle thought as she looked at herself in the mirror after a thorough examination of _Elemantary Appearance Charms._ Her hair did look a better shade than before – brown, not mousy-colored – and was done rather smartly. Her smile became a little dimpled, and her nose smaller and prettier.

Her glasses were an annoyance, though. She stuffed them into her pocket – no matter, she could do without for a while! But why could McGonagall from Gryffindor look elegant in her glasses, and Myrtle couldn’t?

 _Perhaps it has something to do with being Muggle-born,_ she mused sadly. _No matter. Well, let’s go and meet Tom!_

She had already thought up a very good reason to speak with him. A very good and true one. Like any Ravenclaw, Myrtle did well – at least reasonably well – in all her studies, but her one grand problem was Divination. Professor Tiresius, a young man of Greek descent who looked as if he was always a bit drunk, never gave her any grade even _remotely_ passing.

 _Tom had an Outstanding in Divination, his O.W.L. results were in the halls for all to see,_ Myrtle remembered fondly. Now, the only thing remaining was to find Tom and ask him for a little extra help.

_His schedule… his schedule… on Monday afternoon he’s got Arithmancy when we’ve got our first half of Potions… and he has double Transfiguration on Thursdays, Dumbledore mentioned it… and I remember him telling Aurora he has Astronomy before her, which means… which means today he’s got it when we have Herbology!_

Myrtle caught Olive Hornby by the elbow:

“Hey, tell Sprout I got sick, please!”

“Myrtle?” Olive raised her eyebrows. “What are you…”

“Just tell her!”

“What’s got into you? You never skip Herbology!”

“It’s urgent!”

Leaving Olive with that, Myrtle ran like lightning to the Astronomy Tower. She was there, catching her breath, as the sixth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors began to appear, fighting each other as usual.

“Miss Warren!” she heard _his_ voice, and her legs felt like jelly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… Mr. Riddle, I was – was wondering,” she turned to him, so that he could see her new prettiness. “I was wondering if you could give me some help with my Divination exam. I think I’ll fail it. And I know you had an O.”

“I don’t have much time, Miss Warren,” he said rather coldly. “Surely you can ask Professor Tiresius.”

“I don’t understand a _word_ he’s saying!” Myrtle pleaded desperately. “Mr. Riddle – you’re the best – no one else I know is good in Divination!”

“Oh, well,” Tom replied in an extremely annoyed tone. “This weekend is the last before the exams, so… Saturday, History of Magic classroom, four o’clock. Sunday, same place, same time.”

“But at four o’clock on Saturday… wait a moment, Mr. Riddle, there’s the _Quidditch final_ at half past four! Ravenclaw playing Slytherin! Aren’t _you_ going to be there?”

“Not at all. I’ve never had a passion for Quidditch. What’s more, one doesn’t require any talent in Divination to predict Ravenclaw would win. I don’t like witnessing defeat.”

“Ravenclaw? Win?” Myrtle gaped at him. Surely he was a genius, if he could say it so easily without even having an interest in the game! “But why? I mean – how? Olive’s a Beater, and she says our Chasers are atrocious.”

“Because they are unfortunate enough to catch all Bludgers she’s not quick enough to dodge,” he retorted. “In our team, Yaxley’s the only decent player. I have no idea how they made it to the finals. Except for, well, I dare say the new Seeker’s very good.”

As the new Seeker, replacing Jeremy Goyle who had resigned from the team, was a pure-blood _girl_ , Myrtle felt a throb of jealousy.

“But she failed her pre-examination test in Transfiguration, so she might be focused on passing her exams rather than on the Snitch,” she said.

“Four o’clock, Saturday, Miss Warren. I’m already doing you a favor in agreeing to help a student from another House. We’re not here to discuss my fellow students. Besides, little Eileen Prince might have failed Transfiguration, but she’s topped all the classes in Potions. Now, if you please, I have a lesson to attend.”

Myrtle went down, feeling her cheeks burning.

 _I shouldn’t have spoken this way of their Seeker. Every House is proud of their Seeker. No matter if it’s a girl or a boy. I don’t care a button for our Louis Goldstein, but if anyone tried to insult him, of course I would have stood up for him! Tom may talk cynically about Quidditch, but naturally he wants Slytherin to win! It doesn’t have anything to do with Eileen,_ she thought and felt considerably better. _Eileen’s uglier than me, truth be told! The_ nose _she has!_

As Saturday steadily became closer, Myrtle felt herself caring less and less about the Quidditch final and more about her extracurricular Divination – with Tom Riddle!

 _Concentrate_ , she urged herself. _He mustn’t think you stupid. Or, worse, unworthy of being a Ravenclaw._

She felt so happy that she _did_ win some attention from him after all. Nothing could dampen her sunny mood. When Joshua Prewett from Gryffindor stole and smashed her glasses, she gave him a smile and repaired them with a flick of her wand, causing him to pout and mumble “Freak”. When Eileen Prince accidentally Transfigured Myrtle’s cup of tea into a balloon, Myrtle caught it in time and calmly Transfigured it back, actually ending up giving Eileen some useful advice on aiming her wand correctly.

“I hate wands,” the Slytherin girl said. “They’re so very useless in real work.”

Myrtle, who _adored_ her wand (maple wood, unicorn hair, ten inches, swishy, excellent for charms), would have been furious at any other time. But now she was thinking of the way Riddle’s eyes sparkled when he smiled, and ignored Eileen. The latter, somewhat disappointed at the unsuccessful provocation, returned to her table.

“You’re positively beaming,” Olive noted. “What’s it, Myrtle?”

Myrtle wanted to tell her about her new success, but decided against it. They had been getting on much better lately, but there was no guarantee Olive wouldn’t revert to her bullying attitude if she learned of Myrtle’s progress with Tom.

“Nothing. Finished studying for Transfiguration,” she lied.

“I wish I had your brains,” Olive sighed. “I’m still confused with the last few chapters.”

“But you’re a great Beater,” Myrtle pointed out.

“I wish. You’ll come to watch the final, won’t you?”

“Er… Olive, sorry… I just wanted to tell you… I’m busy on Saturday. Em… Divination.”

“ _Divination_!” Olive exclaimed indignantly. “Do you need to prepare for that foolishness too? I’ve never once opened _Unfogging the Future_ since, I don’t know, October.”

“Still you get Acceptables and I get Dreadfuls.”

It wasn’t enough to convince Olive that additional work on Divination was more important than watching a Quidditch final, and she was looking extremely vexed for the remainder of the week. Myrtle didn’t care. On Saturday morning, she applied all the necessary charms to her face and spent an hour fixing the color of her dress – as the lesson _was_ extracurricular and the school year _had_ ended, she figured she could do without the robes.

At four o’clock she found herself, blushing and trembling, in the History of Magic classroom, waiting for Riddle to appear.


End file.
